Food for Thought
by Sunscorched
Summary: A little give and take can get you places in life. Many thanks to Paisley Rose for her help. Much love, sweetness!
1. Chapter 1

Title: Food for Thought

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm just using the characters for my amusement.

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Part 1

Sarah juggled the grocery bags with one hand and used her butt to shove her door open while using her mouth to hold her keys. It wouldn't have been so bad if she hadn't been wearing heels, but she was, and it made getting into her home twice as difficult. Thank God there were no witnesses to the spectacle. As she always did when getting home, she collapsed against the back of her door in an effort to block out the world and all it's awkward customers, and took a moment to admire her apartment.

The lovely soft peach walls were accentuated with cream floating shelves holding various nick knacks, a contrasting rose carpet covered the floor, and a gorgeous furniture suite circled around an old coffee table bought from a flea market. Filling the air was the scent of lilies and orchids, and boy was it ever welcome. Sure, her place was small, but it was homey, comfortable, and had a kitchen the size of Texas. All in all, her place was damned near perfect.

Of course it helped when one had a stepmother currently trying her hand at interior decorating and a mother who sent her fantastic gifts, something which Sarah would be forever grateful for. If it was up to her, the paint would be more streaky than badly applied fake tan, and nothing would match. She could say God bless Karen and Linda Williams.

A quick glance at her wall clock, a prop from one of her mother's movies, told her that Toby would be arriving in less than an hour and that meant she had to get a move on if she wanted dinner prepared in time. That kid would be the death of her. All he seemed to want to eat was pizza, McDonalds, or fried chicken. Her dad was the one to blame since his idea of cooking came from a saying passed from Jeremy, her mother's fiancé.

"Better to slave over a hot phone than a hot stove," Sarah mimicked with a sarcastic smirk. Of course, daddy dearest didn't complain about a good home cooked meal when she did all the work, not that she minded, far from it in fact. She loved food. Loved to cook it, and more importantly, she loved to eat it, and it was her love of all things yummy that drove her to be a chef.

Years of college and hard work led to her job as head chef at a quaint little restaurant down town called The Main Street Cafe. It was within ten minute's drive, or twenty minutes walk, from her apartment, and overlooked the ridiculously expensive yet gorgeous Donna Karen boutique that provided a lovely lunch time of window shopping.

She sighed longingly as she thought about those kitten heeled sling-backs that would go perfectly with the blue dress she bought last week. Oh well, she couldn't stand around when there were things to be done. With another sigh, Sarah pushed away from the door and headed for the kitchen, her mind wondering what she could make that would both please her brother while giving him a decent meal. Karen did her best when it came to cooking, but well, some people just weren't cut out for the job.

The grocery bags were dumped on the counter and unpacked in turn, the cogs in her head working over time. Lightly seasoned chicken filets combined with a variety of little nibbles, throw in a movie, and voila. Indoor picnic ala Sarah Williams in which the Tobster would get what he wanted the way she wanted him to have it.

She opened the fridge to put the milk away and take out the eggs, then put the sausages on the meat shelf and took out the chicken. Next, Sarah turned her back to grab the soda and melon, only to look back and see the entire stock of food replaced with a single, perfectly round peach. So perfect that she could flipping taste it without a bite.

A growl of frustration escaped her throat as she slammed the fridge shut, ignoring the shiny thing now rolling around her kitchen floor. "I don't have time for this," Sarah stalked out the kitchen, through the living room, and into her bedroom with a pretty little crystal hot on her heels.

Her room was totally different to the rest of the apartment by way of, well, everything. Sheets of silk and velvet in deep, rich shades covered the luxurious Queen sized bed, an Oriental rug on the floor, and an old, white vanity sitting in the far corner. Each time she tried to change the decor, it'd end up right back to square one, and to say it was irritating was an understatement.

"I'm not in the mood to play games, Jareth." Despite the determined words, she still slapped her backside down into the white chair, and glared at her own reflection. She waited for him to show up, and then waited some more, and then some more. Finally her patience grew thin and Sarah got up, fully intending on going back to what she was doing before being so rudely interrupted.

Unfortunately, she ended up walking into a man's chest, the impact of cartilege on toned muscle and sinew effectively made her nose go splat. "Ow, damnit!" Sarah hissed, blinking back hot tears brought on by the sharp stinging in her nasal passage. The only thing pacifying her increasing irritation was a nice red stain ruining his crisp white shirt.

"Oops," Jareth's voice ran over her skin like fine grains of sand. "How careless of me."

She went to use her sleeve to wipe her nose when he produced a handkerchief out of thin air. "Thanks. You're too kind." There many things she loved about sarcasm and it being handy was just one of them. "For a king, you have way too much time on your hands." A few dabs of her injured nose were all that was needed to stop the blood. Obviously he'd done something to the handkerchief, rightly so since he was the one who caused it.

He gave a grand gesturing bow, the motion making his pale blonde hair flop into his eyes. On straightening himself, he studied her attire, his smirk widening as his attention went from the chef pants to the black and white checked blouse, finally to the flour marring her left cheek. "I must say, Sarah, you're as charming as I ever saw."

She rubbed her suddenly aching forehead, resisting the urge to beat him to death with her shoe. "Thanks. What do you want?"

"Right to the point as always; I've a proposition for you."

Like hell, she thought bitterly. "Last time, I ended up in another oubliette with my hair tangled in a spider's web while you stood there and laughed."

"Yet you were able to dance, correct?"

Sarah glared. "If you can call hobbling around with two broken toes dancing, then yes. Dancing is what I did."

"I found your performance simply delightful." His voice was smooth, sultry and God, it was warm. Cognac, she thought, he had a voice like cognac and it nothing but give her ideas of what he'd taste like.

She went to fire the retort burning her tongue, yet found the curiosity too much to ignore. She fiddled with her pants, looking at the floor momentarily before peeking up through dark lashes nervously. "Really?"

"Oh yes," Jareth kept his grin to himself. "It kept my subjects entertained for days."

Words stuck in a big, bad lump as whatever feeling she had drifted into righteous indignation. Instead of starting a conversation that would turn into another round of childish bickering, Sarah held her breath, and after counting to twenty, spoke in a very cool, very calm manner. "I'm pleased you enjoyed it. Now if you don't mind, I have to start dinner..."

She was surprised when the king clapped his hands. "Excellent!" He exclaimed far too merrily for her liking. "What is on the menu for the young lad? That strange pizza perhaps, or the wings of a bird?"

Disbelief clouded her face. "Are you telling me you've come here for something to eat?"

"Your culinary skills are soundly recommended. I wish to see if they are fit for a king," he said, 'and his kingdom', he silently added.

Not normally one to boost her own ego, but lately she had been receiving a lot of compliments from customers, especially when it came to her ice cream sundaes. Completely unhealthy and ridiculously sickening, however they were delicious on a hot summer's day. "Well, I did get a good write-up in Gazette," Sarah stated proudly, then narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Why?"

Jareth's grin was everything innocent. "No reason."

In other words there was a reason; he just wanted to keep her on tenterhooks. "Guessing games are the only games I don't play. You know that."

"Since I now have your attention, I will tell you."

Again, she rubbed her temple. "Look. You talk; I'll listen while I work... Damnit! Now I'm going to have that stupid song in my head."

He cocked his head in confusion. "Which song?"

"You know. Whistle while you work. Tra la la la? Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs?" He remained confused. "Never mind. Follow me, but I warn you. One mention of running through your stupid, crazy maze and I'll hit you."

His laughter was like music and his face lost some of the grandeur, and she was hard pressed not to take pleasure in his humor, despite it being at her expense. If there was one thing Sarah Williams didn't do, it was lie to herself, and she'd be the first to admit she didn't mind him laughing her. Saying that, she'd prefer it if he laughed with her, but what hell.

"It was beneficial to all parties," he reminded her with a hint of laughter still in his voice. "You learned to dance somewhat and I won gold."

"It's the _somewhat_ that worries me." Sarah ducked under his arm and out of her bedroom, snorting at the lack of footsteps behind her. "A king would never walk," she mimicked in a high pitched voice belonging to an eight year old girl, and then resumed her normal tone. "I was thinking of a bit of everything."

"Such as?" Jareth asked from a throne that hadn't been in her kitchen since his last visit. The sight of him lounging all over it, in a clean shirt no less, making her eyes roll. God, he was such a snob sometimes.

"Lightly seasoned chicken filets with some cheesy potato wedges, a salsa dip, and a fruit salad." She paused. "Maybe a bottle of California white to wash it down. Are you staying or not?"

"Of course. A gentleman would never eat and run. You know," he begun. "I could do all this, and more, with a wave of my hand."

Sarah faced him with a condescending look. "You don't do that in your place, you're not going to do it here. Besides, it's cheating, and you never cheat." She was right in what she said. He didn't need to have cooks preparing his meals in the Underground, but he did. She'd come to understand, truly understand, what it meant to him to provide for his people and that included work, homes, and countless other things. He was a good king to the goblins and she had nothing but the highest respect for him.

That wasn't always the case. Once over she'd thought him the very worst of people, taking and doing what he pleased careless of others, but no. Not him. He never took things for granted, not even his own self, and it was this part of him she learned from. They certainly hadn't gotten off on the greatest start, yet they'd formed a friendship she treasured. Naturally their friendship had a give-and-take basis that begun two weeks after winning Toby back.

She needed help with her brother and Jareth needed a date with a fake suitor for a ball in the Elven kingdom. They'd made a truce of sorts which led to years of deals and propositions. Like the last one. She needed to learn how to dance for a wedding and he needed her to lose the Labyrinth so he could win an unreal amount of gold in a bet.

"And this, my dear Sarah, is the very thing that would make an excellent Queen." He offered many times the use of his power to make her life so easier, yet she never took it. He winced as he remembered the first offer he made to do all her work for her. There was barely time to move before the plate hit his head. Apparently, her cooking was good enough without magic and for him to offer was clearly an insult.

Not this again. "Jareth..."

"Yes, yes," he replied with a flourishing hand gesture. "I know you work so hard to aid with the lad's college education, but if you would give more thought to my suggestion, you would not need to drive yourself into the ground by working as a commoner." Tutored by masters in all subjects would ensure Toby had a fine education.

Sarah ignored the commoner comment. "I appreciate the offer, Jareth, and I know he does too, but this is how it's done here. We work, we get paid, and we use that pay to live." He maybe Jareth, king of Goblins, but he was still a king. "Besides, you have children who need that help. Toby doesn't."

"Are you sure I can't tempt you to being Queen?" He paused to give her a calculating smirk. "That sounds awfully like a bet."

Giving up, she turned her back to him in order to set about making dinner all the while feeling his eyes on her and hearing the sound of his gloved finger tap-tap-tapping against his thigh. Constant tapping was severely annoying, pushing her tolerance not just to the edge, but so far over the edge it hit the rocks below.

"Would you just stop?" Sarah snarled. "God!"

"Stop what?" Jareth innocently asked. "I would assume you'd rather I did this to pass the time in lieu of distracting you with meaningless conversation, but alas. I ought to have learned not to assume your preferences. Now about my proposition..." His tone was inviting, the mischief in his gaze merely served to ignite her curiosity, and she was helpless against it despite her better judgment.

"Okay," unlike his, her voice was full of resignation as she yet again gave herself over to whatever plan his tiny mind whipped up. "What is it?"

He sensed play time was over. "I have need of your services," he explained at length. "I want to be the envy of all the Underground and you're going to help me."

Oh? "I am, am I?" Where was she when she said yes? That's right. This was Jareth, Mr. I am King So Hear Me Roar. He didn't ask, he ordered.

He was out of his throne and pacing grandly in front of her, his hands flourished here and there, making her dodge out of the way, lest she lose an eye. Unfortunately, she may have saved her sight, but not her beautiful kitchen. Crystals flew everywhere and left glitter on everything they contacted. Cooker, refrigerator, counter tops, the wall clock, and with each pop, Sarah's jaw got closer to the floor as he unwittingly trashed her place.

"I am a King, Sarah." Jareth unnecessarily informed the brunette, completely ignorant of her growing fury. "Of mere goblins, yes, but still a king."

"Get on with it," she grouched and pretended not to feel a crystal burst on top of her head, leaving her tied up hair sparkling like Candy Land.

"Very well; the Winter Festival is an annual event attended by Fae aristocracy. Royals, Lords and Ladies."

"You told me about it once. You said it was like watching dolls playing dress-up. Go on."

"The Winter Festival is to be held in my Court this year, and I want it to be remembered. My castle and Goblin city is already undergoing preparations, the decorations and banners are being made. It is, of course, a perfect opportunity to increase diplomatic relations with other kingdoms. The city and the very Labyrinth would prosper and thrive, but it needs to be..."

"Successful?" Sarah finished. "I of all people wouldn't want to see the Goblin city flounder due to lack of trade and Elven wine. I understand your need for glory, but where do I come into this?" As soon as her question left her mouth, a bubble of dread began to grow in her stomach.

The king's smile turned that bubble of dread into the Goodyear blimp. "Success comes with the most beautiful of decorations, the grandest marching band playing the best music." He paused long enough to smile, "And the serving of the best food."

She blinked at him once, twice, thrice, and then shook her head. Surely he couldn't be asking her to cater? "Oh no," she said, backing up and waving her hands. "No, no, no. The restaurant has just booked three weddings and an Old Soldiers reunion. Taking this on is impossible."

Dealing with one Fae was bad enough, but a whole roomful? She had two words for him. No and way.

Jareth was never one to give up quite so early in the game. "Imagine the impression it would make, Sarah that you willingly work for the Goblins and their king. It would show my power to go between realms and if my power is seen so, then the city will be a much sought-after ally and gain allies in turn."

Sarah ceased to breathe. "Allies? You mean conflicts? You don't fear one, right? I mean the city isn't under attack?"

"Heavens no," he remarked with a chuckle. "Where does your imagination take you, I wonder."

No conflicts. Good. "It doesn't change the fact I can't do what you're asking. I don't have experience with your food..."

"Oh, but you do, dearest." He laughed openly and heartily as her face went crimson with either rage or embarrassment. Probably both knowing her, "Not cooking it, I grant you. That can be remedied. Be my Queen, be ruled by me, and you can have all the experience you want."

It didn't take a genius to figure out he wasn't just on about cooking. "Jareth," Sarah sighed in exasperation.

"If you had taken my offer at that blasted ball, you could have been quite..." He searched for an appropriate term, "Accomplished by now."

"I was sixteen!"

"Yes, you were," he purred. "So young, so innocent, I would have had you with child in a month. Nay!" Jareth spun on her, his finger pointing half an inch from her face, and a crystal bursting off her nose. "A week!"

Sarah pretended not to hear that. "Let's say I do this for you. What would I get out of it?" If he said the royal heir, she'd render him impotent.

"Catering to such an event is not reward enough?" The only thing stopping her sarcastic reply was the fact it was a genuine question. "I can pay you handsomely. Gold and jewels and whatever else your heart desires."

"You know very well I won't take your money." She took a long, hard look at his face, and felt her resolve waver ever so slightly. "No. Money and jewels won't cut it."

Jareth's eyes took on a gleam that only came when a game was about to be played. "A dream, Sarah? Is that payment enough?"

Hell no. "Last time you gave me a dream, I had a crown that wouldn't come off."

"You did not say it had to be _your_ dream." He continued to guess. "A holiday to that Barbados place you keep harping on about?" She laughed, but shook her head,"A year's supply of freshly ground Colombian coffee?"

"Tempting," Sarah admitted with a smile; "Very tempting, but no."

He fell silent and thought on it for a moment before the light bulb pinged to life. "A-ha!" He cried triumphantly, not noticing yet another crystal going pop. Jareth flicked his wrist and produced a thin, white envelope, dangling it just out of her reach, "A weekend at an Elven spa. You shall be waited on hand and foot by the most beautiful Fae."

Sarah eyed the gift with a hint of longing in her pretty green gaze. "Is that the spa with the natural hot springs overlooking the singing sea? The spa that has beds like clouds and hot tubs the size of the Labyrinth?"

Oh, yeah. She could see it now. Lounging around in a natural hot spring, eating fruit and sipping champagne while one Fae male massaged her shoulders and another cooled her down with palm tree branches. Heavenly, absolutely heavenly, but he wasn't quite there.

His shock at her declining that was apparent. "Then what would you accept as payment, Sarah? I am out of ideas."

After all these years he hadn't learned a damned thing. "I can see how much this means to you, Jareth, and ensuring the well-being of the city and the Labyrinth means a lot to me, too. How about asking me as a friend?" She grinned sheepishly, "And giving me the spa package as an early birthday gift."

He scratched his head. "Ask a favor, you mean?" She nodded. "You would work for naught?" Jareth was simply appalled by the suggestion and didn't bother to hide it. "Certainly not! I will not see you enslaved, for that is what it would be. The very thought disgusts me."

Pick your fights, she thought when she recognized his tone. It was one of finality. "Fine," Sarah growled. "If you have to give me something, then I saw a gorgeous pair of kitten heeled sling-backs at Donna Karen, and colour me shallow, but God, I want them!"

"You would cater to a thousand, or more, for a pair of shoes?"

Whoa. "Rewind. Who said anything about a thousand?" What the hell did he think she was? A miracle worker?

Jareth ignored the question, choosing instead to finally notice the damage done by his magic. He swiped a finger along the table top and brought it up for inspection. "Good God, Sarah. Don't you ever clean up?"

He barely had time to vanish before she beat him to death with the chicken filets. Still she threw them in effort it would catch the rat, but she had no such luck. The chicken basically ended up on the table and the impact sending the glitter poofing into the air.

"It is settled," and she jumped a mile when his voice filled the room. "You shall have your shoes in exchange for a grand banquet. You have thirteen hours till I fetch you. No need to pack. Garments will be provided."

Then Sarah was left to deal with a shiny kitchen, less than half hour to make a meal for her brother, the headache brought on by the Goblin King, and a Winter Festival to think about. "Stress, prepare to say hello to Sarah Williams."

"Great," she muttered in defeat. "Just great."


	2. Chapter 2

Food for Thought

Part 2

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While Toby busied himself with the Playstation and Resident Evil, Sarah allowed herself to unwind in a lavender scented bath and a glass of wine. A sigh left her throat as she lay back, her eyes drifting closed and fingers tingling with the heat. If she was getting into a world of craziness, then she damn well earned a bit of down time.

"Hmmm," she murmured and squeezed the sponge, relishing in the excess water dripping down her face and neck, the fragrance of roses a very welcome change to that of teenage boy socks and sneakers. For such a little guy, Toby's feet didn't half stink. A grin formed on her face as she thought about what Karen and her father went through. She shuddered to think.

Her toes popped up out of the water and she absent mindedly admired her nail polish. She might not be able to wear it on her fingers at work, but she could decorate her toes any colour she wanted. That shade of blue looked odd yet kinda nice. Grinning, Sarah thought of how it matched Jareth's left eye and then her grin fell into a frown as she thought of how he'd react to that statement. Probably shrug it off with a languid wave of his hand and say _of course it does, why do you think you use it_?

It wasn't the reason she used it, far from it in fact. It had been on sale and came with four other shades of blue. No other reason at all. At least that's what she told herself. "That's right," she grumbled after a sip of wine. "Agree to cater a king's court and you think of nail polish." She nipped her tongue with her teeth to make sure it hadn't dissolved from the acidic sarcasm.

Her alarm clock went off and she sighed, it was time to get out and start getting a few things ready for the trip. She may trust Jareth with her life, but not when it came to general provisions. If he had his way, he'd have her in stupid gowns that threatened to swallow her whole, matching slippers that had about as much use as a glass snowball, and one of those hideous wigs that were currently in Fae fashion. Besides, she never went anywhere without her favourite jammies.

Sarah cautiously glanced over her shoulder to check for a clear coast before climbing out, taking great care to shake her legs and arms off, then squeezed out her hair. Long locks might look lovely, but it was high maintanence when it came to drying and styling. Body moisturised and dried, robe wrapped tight and teeth brushed. A yawn told her a hot bath may not have been such a good idea after all, but never mind. She'd grab a quick nap once she was there.

She opened the door, cringing at the feel of cool air mixing with hot. "Toby? Hurry up and finish whatever bit you're doing. If you wanna come, then start getting your stuff together. He said thirteen hours, but this is Jareth we're talking about. His thirteen hours could be more like five."

"Uh-huh," was the distracted reponse.

"I mean now."

Fumbling noises were heard for a few seconds. "Right. Doing it now."

Sarah rolled her eyes as she headed for her bedroom, not fooled one iota. "Toby!"

"Okay."

"Do you want to stay here all by yourself or do you want to go home?"

"I'd do as you're told if I were you."

Both siblings jumped a mile at the sound and appearance of the king, and both snapped their heads round in time to see him manifest in the middle of the living room. His riding crop lightly bounced off his thigh, his right eyebrow arched high, and one gloved finger slid across his lower lip. "Well?" He asked, impatience colouring his tone.

Sarah glared and tugged her robe tighter when his gaze roamed over her. Didn't he realise her brother was in the room or did he just not care? "You said thirteen hours, not..." What was the use in arguing with someone who could twist words like a pretzel? "Gimme ten minutes."

"Why change?" Jareth asked, his smirk never left his face as he took in the picture she made. "You look perfectly well to me."

Seeing his sister was engaged in talking to the king, Toby oh so innocently turned back to his game and hoped the sound of the zombies didn't attract her attention. It only took a few seconds for him to become yet again engrossed until an enemy got in a good bite. "Aw damn!"

"Toby!" Sarah chastised and began to tap her foot. "Didn't I tell you to finish up and get your stuff together?"

"I know, but if I get to the police station, I can save and then I can pack. I won't be long. Honest."

The day a twelve year old made solemn vows and stuck to them was the day she'd be the king of Siam. "Uh huh, and then you'll just need to get the key from the unicorn, then you'll need to kill that licker thing, and what happens after that?"

Jareth chuckled. "If my memory serves well, you meet up with the law enforcer. Am I correct?"

Toby grinned. "Yup. Told ya you'd like this. It's one of the greatest games _ever_! I'm saving up my allowance to get number 4."

"Okay, this is a little too much for me," Sarah said with a shake of her head. Sure, she liked games, but zombies weren't really her forte. "You two have fun while I go change and grab a few things." Before she could be either contradicted or roped into a conversation revolving around what the best game was, she hurried into her bedroom and closed the door behind her, taking care to lock it just in case Jareth decided to offer his personal help.

Once over, she would never have trusted Jareth with Toby when surrounded by a Swat team, but that was then. She really couldn't think of a better guardian for her brother than the king. He was so good with the little brat, keeping him entertained with stories and tales of Goblins and fairies alike. Although some of the these tales had to be censured and made suitable for little ears, but they still managed to enthrall Toby and she was often glad for it, especially when she had to work late or was busy doing something or other.

No doubt about it. Jareth was a Godsend sometimes.

Sarah pressed her ear against her door, fully aware she was shamelessly eavesdropping. She heard the subtle shift in conversation from games and gadgets to school and lessons. _Clever Jareth_, she mentally thought and vowed to give him a hug. She knew from her parents that Toby had been paying little to no attention in school, instead preferring to spend his time being a preteen. If Jareth could talk some sense into her brother, then he'd be on her Christmas list for the next century.

"History is of great importance," she heard Jareth say. "It teaches you of heritage, of past mistakes that can be learned from, and of the people who sought to gain the freedom you enjoy. Tedious and often droll, I agree, but nonetheless important."

"I guess," was the reply. "But..."

"No buts," Jareth interrupted, his voice everything regal and the tone commanded complete attention. "Architechture is your chosen trade, yes? A commendable trade, to be sure, but do you not wish to learn of your trade? Do you not want to learn how people built such wonders with only themselves as tools?"

Warmth went through Sarah as she listened to her brother agree, and then she grinned. "Course, but there'll be another ice age before we ever get there!" Toby whined. "Seriously. Mr Bryson talks like this." He went on to do an exaggerated impression of the history teacher who'd been alive in the ice age.

Jareth chuckled. "Poor Toby. How you must suffer. Still, it is no excuse to sway from your studies. I shall make you a deal. If you prove yourself to be a good student and receive a good grade in both history and mathematics, you may have a chance to run the Labyrinth according to the rules." There was a pause. "Not that you will be able to beat my maze, of course."

Toby scoffed and said with all the arrogance of a preteen, "Bet I could and I could do it in ten hours."

"Five."

"Nine."

"Six."

"Eight."

"Done." The boy wouldn't stand a chance, but it would prove to be a most amusing eight hours.

"Cool. Want some cookies? Sarah's got some hidden in a place I'm not s'posed to know about."

The woman in question rolled her eyes. Of course the little brat would know the hiding place, it'd explain the disappearance of the custard cream biscuits last time he slept over. Sarah heard the king mention her long absence and quickly resumed the task of changing, stuffing things into a hold-all, and returning to the living room. "Tobster, your turn to pack."

"Okay... Can I take..."

"No," she replied firmly. "You can't take your Gameboy or PSP. You're going to get some excercise for once."

Toby's blue eyes lit up. "Can I take my soccer ball and kite? I left them here last time."

"Ask Jareth, it's his lawn you'll be turfing about on."

The king smiled benignly. "Of course you may, and I shall accompany you to see what this soccer game is about."

"It's really cool. You have two teams and two goals, and each team has to get the ball into the enemy team's goal. Whoever has the highest amount of goals after ninety minutes wins."

Sarah's groan went ignored as Jareth's face took on a look she knew all too well. A game was a game and it was all the better when there was a clear winner. When his gaze slyly slid to her, she just knew she was going to end up involved in one way or another. To say she hated soccer was an understatement, frankly the game bored her silly.

"Excellent!" The king stated. "Such fun we shall have. Now be off with you, lad, time runs short."

They watched him discard his game and hurry off to his bedroom in much the same way his sister had moments earlier, but he didn't eavesdrop. After all, no kid in their right mind would wanna hear what two grown-ups had to talk about.

"Are you done?" Jareth asked and got a reply by way of two slender arms curling around his neck, hugging him. Surprised but very pleased with this sudden show of affection, he returned her embrace with equal affection. The lack of perfume allowed him the privilege of her natural scent, and it was one of sweetness and spice, it enveloped him and left him high.

"Thank you," she said and pulled back enough to stand on tippy toes to press a soft, warm smooch to his smooth cheek.

"No need to thank me for something I am happy to do, but I graciously accept." He smiled down at her, offhandedly noticing how pretty her lips looked when free of colour.

Sarah squeezed his hand for a short little second, feeling the supple leather warm to her touch. "You're a good man, Jareth. Okay," she let his hand go so she could get a few extra bits and pieces. "You have any idea what you want on the menu of this grand banquet?" If not, she had a couple of ideas.

"Oh yes!" He exclaimed, happy she was the one to bring it up. "But I would like to hear your thoughts on the subject."

"I was thinking you should provide something for everyone." Jareth gestured for her to continue. "The fairies like fruit and fauna, the fierys like that disgusting water which burns your esophagus, and the elves like anything alcoholic. If you provide for all species, that not only shows you've put thought into their particular tastes, but it would also show them how welcome they are into your kingdom."

"And?" He asked at her lengthy pause.

"I wouldn't get bored by making the same things over and over again. Because there's nothing worse, believe me." Sarah comically shuddered as many memories flew through her head. "I once had to cook thirteen large corned beef and onion pies... You weren't too blame, right?"

He chuckled. "I should say not. This idea of yours does you credit, my dear."

She nodded, inwardly preening at the praise. God, she disgusted herself sometimes. "I'll need to make a sample menu for people to try before you serve. Is there a way to get..."

Jareth answered before she could finish the question. "I can require representatives to come taste, though I do not see why you would need such a service. Is my word on quality and dishes not good enough?" The thought he, as a king, would be questioned was insupportable.

"You like cheese, yes?" Sarah asked and continued when he answered yes. "You like oranges, yes?" Again, he answered yes. "What if I served you cheesy oranges?" She smirked at his grimace of disgust.

"I see your point. I can request representatives too come to the Goblin kingdom before the Festival. Though I do not see why you would want that." He huffed out his displeasure. "After all, if they do not like what is provided, they can..."

"Jareth!" Sarah hissed, knowing full well what his next words would be. "Toby is in the next room and he has ears like a bat."

Quickly amending his words, "Serve themselves."

"Yes, that's exactly what you were going to say. I know the Goblins and their love of anything messy, meals included, but since this is the Festival, I'm assuming you want them to make a good, _tidy_ impression."

"I do," he answered. "In fact, I have requested many things for my subjects. The guards are to get new uniforms, all the city's structures are being improved and brought up to date, while the army band have begun rehearsal to lead the guest processions by a march from the entrance right to the castle doors. The Labyrinth fairies are to perform displays of aerobatics, there are teams putting on tornaments of various sporting events."

As he continued to inform Sarah of the goings on, her excitement grew and she could say with total honesty that she could hardly wait to get there. Sure, she was only the cook, but what the hell ever. This would be her first grand event and for it be to Winter Festival, which was obviously held in highest esteem, being a simple employee would ensure she got to see how the whole thing was put together.

"And the Fireys? Are they gonna razzle and dazzle everyone with their limb removing talents?"

Jareth's expression told her what he thought of that. "Absolutely not. I'll not have my guests put off your fine dishes by the sight of heads and arms being thrown every which way."

She looked a tad disappointed, but quickly shook it off. "Hey, are there any kids in the nursery?"

"Unfortunately yes. Dare I assume you have sweets and biscuits for the children?"

Pausing her answer long enough to yell for Toby to hurry. "I do, they're in the cupboard above the cooker. Can you..." The few tins appeared in hands before she finished the sentence. "Never mind. Oatmeal and raisin, peanut butter, and chocolate chip cookies, plus other yummy things." She watched him examin each tin thoughtfully when she realised he'd never tried human biscuits and sweets, and definitely not one of her biscuits.

"Try one," Sarah encouraged with a grin. "I'd recommend the peanut butter." When he didn't make a move to do that, she took one of the tins, opened it and handed him the first biscuit she came across. "I know you want too."

The daring in her green eyes was unmistakable and since he'd never been one to turn a challenge, he snapped up the treat and bit into it. "How can I resist such temptation?" Jareth's gaze went wide before his eyelashes fluttered as he savoured the delicious taste, he chewed slowly and carefully, only swallowing when he'd tried each and every bit of it.

She wasn't sure what was more dangerous. The way his slender neck muscles rippled under his skin or the way his tongue swept over his mouth to capture the stray crumbs, leaving his pale pink lips glistening and so damn inviting, she was hard pressed not to kiss them. "Well?" She asked, hoping he found it to his liking.

"We must have these after the last course is done, Sarah, and I must have a private batch to complete my breakfast."

She shook her head, amazed at the speed in which he went from king to big kid. He went to steal another, but a slap to the hand prevented it. "Easy crumbcake, these are for the kids. Speaking of kids, does my brother seem to be taking his time?"

He didn't get a chance to answer as she directed a set of suspiciously narrowed eyes towards Toby's room. "I'm gonna kill him, I swear." She marched towards it and all but booted the door off it's hinges. "I knew it! I just knew I couldn't trust you. Take them out... Better yet, give em to me."

A sighed huff brought a knowing smirk to the king's lips. He waited a few moments for Sarah to reappear, and when she did, she had one hand full of game cartridges and the other held a small console.

"Magic these into a hiding place. Don't, and I mean _don't_, tell him where." She nodded her approval when the things disappeared into thin air, herself, Toby, and Jareth following soon after.

&&&&&&&&&

Sarah yawned a big yawn that brought tears to her tired and heavy eyes, her fingers rubbed away what sleep she could and then glanced longingly at the large bed dominating the apartments assigned to her. It was a stunning room. Pale yellow hues beautifully contrasted the vivid shades of mulberry and wine while the furniture, made of a gorgeous dark wood, sat here and there.

The bed itself reminded her of something from a tacky romance novel by way of the white net curtains tied to each of the four posts. The sheets were an exact match to the ones on her own bed. It shouldn't have surprised her, but it did. Not so much for the similarities, but more so for the fact he'd put thought into providing some home comforts for her. The only thing that disturbed her was the heavy oak door which led directly to Jareth's royal suite, which meant he could waltz right on in here anytime he wished.

She sighed and decided not to think on it too much. She also decided to leave the unpacking until tomorrow. For now, she was gonna crawl under those silk and velvet covers, and sleep with a capital S.

As uncomfortable as it may be, modesty and common sense told her to leave her underwear on just in case either Toby, or more importantly, Jareth took a midnight stroll into her room. Her shirt slid off her shoulders and landed in a pool of black on the floor, her shoes slipped off and yoga pants quickly followed.

A much needed stretch was had, the motion causing muscle and bone pop, thus causing her back to arch and a contenteded sigh to shatter the peaceful silence. No sooner had Sarah began a literal crawl up the mattress than the sound of a lock was heard, leaving her hardly time to hurry under the luxurious blankets.

"Still awake I see," said the king, who smiled oh so happily at his guest, and brandished a lovely nightgown from nowhere. He smirked when he noticed her unpacked bag on the floor. "Knowing you as I do, I thought you might have use for this."

A dark eyebrow rose. "And what do you get in return?"

"The chance to wish you sweet dreams."

Sarah's jaw had bearly touched the floor when the gown appeared next to her and the door was closed. It took a good few seconds for his words to fully register in her brain. How in the hell was she gonna sleep now?


	3. Chapter 3

To The Readers,

Thank you, thank you to everyone who has reviewed. As this is my first Labyrinth fanfic, your comments have encouraged me to get this chapter out as quick as possible. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I hope it doesn't disappoint.

Thank you very much again.

Hugs, S xxx

&&&&&&&

Food for Thought 3

She woke up, grinning like a maniac, and swore Jareth was worth his weight in gold. He'd given her Barbados in a dream and it was a dream so real, she still felt the sand between her toes, still felt the delicious heat of the summer sun on her face, and her nose could still smell the salty sea air. She glanced down only to see elastic marks where her bikini had been.

Her grin widened to the point where it went from ear to ear, and she gave herself a little hug, mentally telling herself to thank Jareth for his gift. Sure, it hadn't been a perfect recreation of Barbados, but it came a damn close second, and God, that made it just as good, if not better. She recalled every moment so well that it was like she'd gone there yesterday and it was times like these when she'd say she loved Jareth with every fiber of her being.

Of course, the only reason he gave her a dream excluding crowns and kingdoms was because he didn't want her to quit before the Festival, otherwise her dream would have included crowns and a son named Jareth junior. Sarah did love the king with all her heart, but they'd never had a romantic relationship. Never once in their years of give-and-take had Jareth said he loved her, it was always about how she'd make a good queen, a good mother, a good wife, but love?

She wanted the flowers and hearts and chocolates. She wanted the dates and the chance to clean up good for her man in a way that didn't revolve around dirty pots and pans. Hell, she wanted sweet nothings stupidly whispered in her ears. As much as Sarah would dearly love to deny it, she was a true romantic at heart, and wouldn't settle for anything less.

Slowly, sounds from outside began to cut in on her thoughts and she gave into the burning need to see what was going on. The sheets were shoved off, her feet hit the floor, and she was at the balcony faster than the speed of light.

She wasn't prepared for the utter shock she felt on opening the large drapes and she stood there, unable to do more than gawk. The city was a flurry of activity as goblins and fae and faeries alike ran about like cats on a hot tin roof. With a grin, Sarah shoved at the doors and stepped out onto the balcony, looking down in wonder and awe as they went about the Festival preparations.

Sure, she was pretty high up, but not so high that she couldn't see what it was they were doing. There were one or two banners were already in place to right of the castle and one more being hauled onto the top of the city gates. Another shock came when a group of faeries flew up past her face, making her jump back a bit as they performed a beautiful display before flying off in a star shape, leaving silver dust in their wake.

She couldn't stop the delighted clap if she tried and found herself rewarded by a flyby from the aerobatics team. One of them wore a tiara of sorts on her tiny head and her dress was more showy than the others, which were obviously signs she was either the prima ballerina or the faerie queen herself. They were so enchanting with their long hair and, their pretty silver wings that it was only too easy to become blind to their vicious nature.

Curiously, Sarah reached out to touch the fairie and in her rapture, forgot all about the time she was bitten by such a creature. She stroked a finger down the little fairie's hair, marvelling at the sheer silkiness and colour of it. A sharp, nasty stinging sensation shot from her finger and up her arm, finally sinking into her brain that the fairie had just taken a nip.

"You little runt," she grouched, snatching her hand back before the flying rat could do more damage. "That hurt!"

The fairie merely stuck out her tongue and flew off to join the rest of her group.

Sarah glared as she popped her injured digit in her mouth, soothing the sting with soft sucks. She hated, truly hated those things. An angry shriek quickly got her attention and she glanced down to a small building, from which two goblins were hauling what looked to be a cask of ale ran from another goblin sporting a large broom like object. She didn't need to be a genius to figure out the cask of ale had been stolen.

"A lovely sight is it not?" Said a voice right in her ear.

Her feet elevated a solid foot off the floor, her skin following a few seconds later, leaving her heart waiting to resume it's normal rhythmic pattern. Once she'd gotten over the shock, Sarah slowly turned to face a highly amused king who stood there with a steaming cup of coffee, the nutty scent was ambrosia for the senses.

"And good morning to you, my dear." Jareth held out the large cup in an offer of peace. "I comprehend your wishes to have me wear this."

Her words came through a set of gritted teeth. "Oh, I really don't think you do."

His laughter rang out and the sound doing more for her than the fragrance emanating from the cup. It left her warming inside, the picture of his face for once relaxed and ungarded, allowed her the rare treat of seeing the man hiding beneath his title.

Sarah was helpless to stop her lips twitching as her own smile began to form. "You really are a charming man, you know that?"

Jareth gave a small yet grand bow. "Your compliment gratifies, my lady. How was your rest?"

Immediately, the fright of her life all forgotten in favour of the gift he gave. "I repeat," she said. "You really know how to charm. Tell me, do all your guests get to hit sunny shores?"

"And have them become accustomed to privileges? I think not. I merely wanted to express my..."

A finger to his lips prevented what he was about say. "Not necessary, honest. This is pleasure, not a chore. Besides," Sarah took the coffee and tipped the cup in an impromptu toast. "There are shoes to be had."

He huffed. Fae or mortal, women were women. Stepping out onto the balcony and waving his hand in a manner that served them both. A table big enough for two appared in the left hand corner with two comfortably cushioned chairs. "Please," Jareth offered his arm. "Join me. I doubt we will have much time for ourselves in the coming days."

Judging from the commotion in the city, Sarah could heartily agree. She sat down oppsite the king and noticed he had neither breakfast or anything to drink. Though her eyes were fixed on the activities below, her words were directed his way. "This place is gonna look amazing."

A shaped eyebrow rose in question. "Going to?"

She rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

"I'm afraid I don't. Care to explain it to me?"

She glared at him only to be treated to the cheekiest look she'd ever had the pleasure to see on his face. His mismatched orbs sparkled with wicked, wicked mischief and his lips were curled up in a smirk that spoke of sinful sensuality. His hair fell into his eyes and appeared so much blonder in the early morning sun, the pale shade enhancing his vivid Fae markings.

He looked so beautiful, and Sarah was hard pressed not to steal a touch, a kiss, or do something that would eventually lead her to sheer mortification. Blushing, she turned her attention back to the city below, a shaking hand raising the cup to her mouth.

Jareth chuckled in a way that had her cheeks turning a pretty pink. "Never before have I been paid such a..." He searched for an appropriate word. "Sweet compliment."

A gentle grasp brought her free hand to his mouth, sun warmed and dry lips swept across the back of her knuckles, leaving her lungs free of oxygen. He let her go and returned to her the ability to breathe. "My thanks for reassuring me of my aesthetic charms."

Sarah turned to him with disbelief all over her face. "You really are modesty personified."

"I merely believe what I'm told." He grinned, showing two rows of shiny white teeth. "Or not told, in your case."

Again, she rolled her eyes. "Men can always be counted on to ruin the mood. No sense of romance."

When there was no reply, she glanced across at the king only to see him staring at her with his head cocked to one side, quizzing her with those eyes. "Your meaning, Sarah."

"There was no meaning," she said, more than a little flustered at how well he read her. "Just stating a fact. Men have no sense of romance."

Jareth's jaw dropped. "Did I not woo you?"

"Yeah, but that was different. You only did those things to throw me off my game and not because there was any real meaning behind them." She paused to take a good drink of coffee for Dutch courage. "It's not like you have any actual feelings for me."

"I beg your pardon?" Who in the Underground did she think she was? Telling him, a king, who he did and did not have feelings for?

Sarah shrugged, completely oblivious of his thoughts. "I mean, sure you love me, but you're not in love with me."

Jareth blinked and realised that while she wasn't telling him his feelings, she was truly, utterly, and entirely clueless about their relationship. He remained quiet for a time, letting her speak until there was no more nonsense left, and even then it took a few moments for him to sort through the babble to get to her point.

A gloved finger slid across his lips and tapped once or twice against his chin. "You are telling me our courtship is so informal, that you have missed it?"

"That's just it, Jareth!" Sarah shot out of her seat, her bare feet pacing back and forth, her hair swishing like black velvet around her shoulders. "There hasn't _been_ a courtship for me to miss! What did we do for our first date, huh? Tell me that. Or when was our last date for that matter?"

"Date?"

"Yes, Jareth. Date. As in just us and not a roomful of people, or a little brother making vomit noises and using his underarms to imitate breaking wind!"

He simply had to laugh at this. "He certainly has unique charms."

Sarah paused her prancing long enough to join his merriment. "You can say that again... And don't take that literally. I digress. Our relationship has been based on helping each other out, not romance and flowers."

The king rose and took hold of both her hands, keeping her from pulling away with a firm grip. "You'll do just fine, my lady."

"What?"

His smile was everything reassuring and calming. "Each time you get nervous, you babble out nonsense and switch the topic to us as distraction. You've nothing to be scared of, Sarah. You are an excellent chef and will be talked of throughout the Underground."

She fell silent as his words struck a chord, leaving her with the naked truth of what exactly she was saying and doing. All the tension left her flopping against his chest with a groan of frustration, her hands leaving his to grab hold of his shirt.

"Jareth!" She whined.

He grinned wildly at the victory. "And you say we are not courting. Now," he tilted her face up so her gaze met his. "Would you like to see the kitchens?"

Sarah beamed, the bright smile and shining eyes took him aback. "I'd love it. You want me to whip up some breakfast? I make a mean set of pancakes."

&&&&&&&

When he said kitchens, he meant kitchens for there were three of them and all were huge. Huge tables sat in the middle of each with pots and pans hanging above, surrounding them were benches and cookers with an array of implements all ready for her to use. The rooms were well lit by light pouring in through large windows and the many lights decorating the walls.

Sarah left Jareth's side to walk round, her eyes scanning every nook and cranny, her fingers trailing over the pristine surfaces, and could hardly believe he'd given her complete run. God, she felt like a little kid at Christmas.

She picked up a random instrument and turned to the king with a raised brow and a smile the size of the Labyrinth. "Let's get to work."


	4. Chapter 4

Dear Readers!

Again, thank you for the feedback. It never fails to make me smile ;-D. I hope this part doesn't disappoint.

Hugs, S xxx

&&&&&&

Food for Thought 4

It had taken her less than an hour to make breakfast for her brother and Jareth, and she stood proudly staring down at the tray full of food. Pancakes and honey, scrambled egg, bacon, and toast all came accompanied with juice and coffee. The king sat and watched in heightened fascination as she went about the kitchen as though it were her own little paradise.

His fascination soon switched to amazement as everything was ready at the time she wanted, not to mention the expertise displayed in tossing the pancakes. The toast was done at the exact moment she'd finished scrambling the eggs, the pancakes were coated with honey mere seconds after the bacon was added to the plate, and the toast buttered straight after the coffee was made. Everything she did was done with expert precision and the smells that filled the kitchen were nothing less than divine.

Sarah half hopped and half skipped over to where he sat, the tray balanced on a hand and shoulder, and she gave a simple curtsey before placing it in front of him. "Bon appetite," she said, then realised this would be the first time Jareth had ever eaten something she made, and the thought she was providing for him this way gave her an odd sense of satisfaction.

Seeing she was waiting for him to start his meal, "Please sit, dearest. Are we to await the lad's arrival?" He asked, pouring her coffee.

"Nah. He can take anything from five seconds to five decades. We'd starve if we waited for him." She paused with a scowl. "He's such a brat."

Jareth chuckled and noticed the impatience on her face as she glanced at his untouched breakfast. How ungentlemanly of him to keep the lady waiting. Without hesitating, he scooped a healthy forkful of eggs and a little bacon, ready to place it into his famished stomach.

Unfortunately, interruption came by way of sneakers hitting the floor, soundly announcing the arrival of Toby, who entered the kitchen as though the hounds of hell were after him. Neither Jareth or Sarah managed to say anything as one foot went out from under him, leaving him with nothing to do bar hit the ground, his baseball cap falling off in the process.

"Aw man," he grumbled. "My lace is loose."

The king opened his mouth, ready to chastise the boy for not taking more care when a set of eyes rolled. "Don't waste your breath," Sarah sighed in resignation. "He'll run all the more if you tell him not too."

"Would not," Toby defended as he jumped onto a chair opposite Jareth. "I always do what I'm told." Without hesitating, he snagged a plate and tore into the pancakes like he'd not eaten in a month.

"My brother, ladies and gents. The table manners of a pig."

"Hey Sarah." The instant his sister looked, he opened his mouth to show her his chewing talents.

"Lovely," she grimaced in disgust.

"If we was at home, she'd cry to dad." Toby talked to Jareth with his mouth still full of food.

"Liar!" Sarah turned to the king. "He's lying. I don't cry to dad."

"Do too." He put on an exaggerated voice belonging to a six year old girl. "Dad, Toby's making faces at me. Dad, Toby's flicking peas at me. Dad..."

"At least I don't..."

Jareth had heard enough. The clock hadn't yet struck nine and already they were at it. He placed his cutlery holding hands on the table with a bang loud enough to cease the childish bickering, pleased when each sibling lowered their heads in shame. "Toby, the word is were, not was, and swallow before you speak. Sarah, you have twenty years on on the age of five. Try to recall it."

"Sorry Jareth," she muttered meekly and peered at him through dark lashes.

"Yeah. Sorry."

He nodded in approval then resumed the task of eating the breakfast Sarah had graciously cooked for him. The fork was barely an inch from his mouth when it started again.

"Tattletale," Toby mumbled, hoping no-one heard him.

"Pig!" Sarah shot back.

"Whiner."

"Quiet, both of you, or I will be forced to take actions not to your liking." Jareth demanded, his voice the one he used when talking to a bunch of undisciplined goblins. "This is the last day of peace I'll have before the seasonal change. May I please break my fast?"

Neither Williams dared say or do anything more and finally, his fork was able to reach its target. He glanced at them once more before eating. _Ahh_, he thought, _food_. When silence continued to reign, he allowed himself to relax in order to fully enjoy his meal. The eggs were beautiful, not too whipped and spiced with a little pepper, and the bacon was just how he liked it. Crispy, lightly salted, and perfect for a morning.

"Excellent, Sarah," Jareth complimented with a smile. "I knew my choice in you was correct." It was good thing he spoke when he did as it took her attention away from her brother, who was now tongue pulling behind her back. He sighed. There was nothing else for it.

He flicked his hand and watched as the lad tried unsuccessfully to pull his tongue back into his mouth. Toby's blue eyes filled with panic when he realised it wasn't going to happen and looked to the king for help. He'd be in so much trouble if his sister saw.

"Something the matter?" Jareth asked and calmly resumed eating.

Sarah frowned and glanced at her brother only to see the face he'd been pulling. "You little scrat!" She seethed and then caught onto the fact Toby couldn't change his expression. She slowly smiled with vengeance filling her eyes. "Mmm, these pancakes look delicious. Don't you agree, Jareth?"

Toby glared as he watched both sister and king each take a generous amount of pancakes and honey. He groaned.

"Quite," was the reply. "This juice has been freshly squeezed?"

"Yep. It's the stuff dreams are made of." Proving her words, she took a good long drink of her own and let out a hum of pleaure as the refreshing and tangy taste burst in her mouth. "Hey, I forgot to mention I'll be making some cotton candy for the children. Ever tried it?"

"No, but I'm certainly willing. Do you favour cotton candy, Toby?" Jareth smiled innocently at the boy.

He frantically nodded and yet again attempted to retract his tongue, groaning out apologies as fast as he could. He was hungry and wanted the stupid pancakes his stupid sister made.

Sarah openly laughed at her brother. "I think he's learned his lesson about not interfering with a king and his breakfast."

Once he was finally able to move his mouth, Toby pouted a fantastically sized pout that would have tripped him up if he'd been walking. "That wasn't fair."

Sarah froze and Jareth's mouth let out the heartiest laugh she had ever heard from him. His entire body shook from the force, the deep sound echoed through the kitchen, and ceased her embarrassing stroll down memory lane. She, too, started to laugh, but unlike him, covered her face with both her hands to hide the brilliant shade of red staining her cheeks.

"What?" Toby asked in confusion. "What's so funny? What did I do?"

"Ah Sarah," the king chuckled and reached for her hand to squeeze. "My dear, dear Sarah."

"I don't geddit." Her brother huffed. He hadn't played the National Anthem through his nose, hadn't made his ears wiggle or anything remotely funny, so why were they laughing at him? "Hey!"

Things went from bad to worse for the youngster as he was then made to watch Jareth kiss her hand at least five times. Okay, the sixth time made him crack. "Dude," Toby snapped as much as his twelve years would allow. "That's my sister."

The king heard the warning loud and clear, and let go of Sarah's lovely hand to grace the lad with a bow of his head. "My apologies."

Obviously little brothers were just as protective as big ones.

&&&&&&&

Jareth led Sarah on a tour of the busy city, pointing what was being done and where. Toby lagged behind them as he was far more interested in seeing how high he could throw his ball before catching it.

"This area here," the king took her to a large square that housed a small fountain in the center. "This is where the market will be held each day of the Festival."

Market meant things to buy and she felt a little gleeful bubble in her chest. Spending money was her favourite hobby, particularly if it involved something to wear.

"Not the clothing you are used too, I assure you," he said with a smirk as he easily read the look on her face. "The clothing here will be... Well, you will see for yourself soon enough. Jewels, trinkets, ornaments. All shall be sold."

"I love markets," she confessed. "They're one of the few places to buy odd little treasures. Dad took me when I was six or seven and I bought all six jewel eyed princess ponies for my collection. Didn't even cost me five dollars."

Jareth's brows touched his hairline. Princess ponies? "You crown your equines?"

"Pardon?" She wasn't sure she heard him right.

"Princess ponies?"

Sarah smiled sheepishly. "I keep forgetting you don't know much of above. My Little Pony was this cartoon years ago and they brought out the toys. There were six ponies with different coloured plastic jewel eyes to collect. Dad still has them stashed away someplace."

"Yes, I recall you were quite the hoarder. Always adding to your toys and your costumes. It's a wonder you had room for it all. Oh, the time I had recreating your bedroom." He chuckled merrily at the memories of rummaging through her things with a pair of slippers the most prominent. They were in a box hidden under her bed and he remembered running ungloved fingers over them, visualising her as a young girl parading around in them.

He also remembered conjuring an image of another young girl. A young girl with the dark hair of her mother and the eyes of her father. Jareth shook off the memory, resuming the conversation as though he hadn't been engaged in a silly day dream.

"You must have had terribly small feet as a girl."

Her face turned sour. "The junk pile. You turned my stuff into the junk pile." She paused their walk and made him look at her. "It so wasn't junk and what do you mean small feet? I don't have small feet." Did she?

Sarah glanced down to check her feet, a part of her wondering if he'd suddenly given her the feet of a kid, but no. Her feet were blessedly the size they had been since she was sixteen.

"No, you certainly haven't small feet," was the airy remark.

"Are you saying I've got big feet?"

Jareth merely smiled and continued his walk. "If the shoe fits."

Behind her, Toby snorted out boyish laughter. "Sarah's got clown feet, Sarah's got clown feet." He would have kept it up, but since he'd already suffered one punishment, he thought it best to quit while he was ahead in case he got clown feet.

Seeing Sarah about to clip her brother round the ear, the king directed them all to one of the battlements currently being restored and captured a builder by his armoured collar. "Tell me the progress."

The goblin was only too quick to inform his king about the progress being made. While this was going on, Toby inched round to see the work for himself and immediately became engrossed watching the builders, his ball all but forgotten. The battlement itself was a fair bit bigger than he was, which meant he had to tilt his head all the way back so he could see the top. There was an actual cannon in the wall. How cool was that?

Tugging on Jareth's shirt for attention, "Can I help? I'll be real good. Honest. And I'll be quiet. Please? Please?"

"If your sister and Grak here agrees. And," he thought to add. "You swallow before opening your mouth."

Toby's pleading blue eyes went from his sister to Grak and back again. "Go on, Sarah. Dad doesn't let me do anything apart from stupid book ends. I'll be extra careful and do what I'm told. Cross my heart."

Sarah really didn't have the heart to tell him no, especially not when she knew how much he loved to work with his hands. Still, these were goblins and were known to get pretty rowdy from time to time. One more look at those baby blues and she was done for.

"Alright, you can help," and her decision was rewarded by a rare hug from her little brother. His scrawny arms grabbed her waist like there was no tomorrow and the amount affection in it brought a fine sheen of tears to her eyes. To think she could have lost out on this.

Jareth caught the look on her face and smiled softly, touching her arm in a way that was much, much more intimate than it appeared. "Be off with you, lad. I'll be watching so no mischief."

Toby was gone before the sentence was finished, leaving his sister to pick up and look after the ball he brought. She fingered the object, passing it back and forth between her hands, not daring to look at the king for fear she'd see pity in those mismatched eyes of his. When she finally got the courage to look at him, it wasn't pity she saw, but respect.

He didn't say a word, didn't have to. Jareth simply smiled a beautiful smile and began a nice stroll past the battlements, his hands locked tight behind his back. Sarah watched him for a few moments as she bounced the ball a few times. "Hey Jareth?"

All goblins within hearing distance stopped short when they heard the king's name yelled by the mortal. Not sire, liege, lord or any other formal greeting.

Jareth glanced over his shoulder. "Yes?"

"Catch!"

The goblins and Sarah watched the ball sail through the air, rotating as it went until it connected solidly with the king's head. Her eyes went wide yet never lost their focus on the ball, following it down to the ground, then darting back up to his face. Her hands came up in a gesture designed to placate.

"I didn't mean it," she said, not surprised her voice came out as a timid, squeaky little noise. If there was one thing she'd learned over the years, it was not to enrage the Goblin King. "I swear I didn't mean it, Jareth."

He fully turned to face her, his eyes blazing with hellfire and brimstone, making her take a few steps back.

Sarah tried again by defending herself. "You were supposed to catch it. You do know what that words means, right? Catch as in use your hands to catch." She made the catching motion with her hands, but it did nothing bar raise his brows in question.

In for a penny and all that jazz, she thought. "Both eyebrows? I'm in trouble."

His eyes narrowed, daring her to continue. She didn't have to keep up the teasing as the goblins did it for her. They bellowed out laughter and jeers as they watched the showdown between king and mortal, getting louder when the king drew a crystal out of nowhere.

"Aw hell."

"Sarah, catch!"

Sarah did the only thing she could given the circumstances and ran.

&&&&&&&

She was more than aware of the attention on her. Well, on her and her dripping hair, clothes and the muddy shoe prints ruining the clean floor. She held her head high and stood with all the dignity she could muster given the circumstances.

"Sarah," Jareth spoke through a mild wide grin and gestured towards the servents he'd selected to help with the cooking. "Please, come meet your servents."

The two parts of her that moved were her eyes and brows. "Servents?" She asked, purposely keeping her voice nice and free of any hostility. Smoothing down her drenched top, "Tell me, am I servent too?" If she couldn't get revenge one way, she'd damn well get it another, and being verbally petty was her one choice.

"Certainly not!"

"If you're calling these people servents because they'll be working in the kitchen, then surely I'm also a servent."

Jareth glared at her as his grin faded. "Sarah, be warned."

She simply shrugged, ignoring the cold water trickling down her neck and back. "I'm just saying."

A giggle escaped from one of the younger girls and she tried to muffle it with her hand, but it was no good. Her king had already heard it. Quick to apologise lest she lose her job, "My apologies, sire."

Jareth treated the maid to a set of narrowing eyes. "Hmmm." One glance at Sarah told him she found the whole moment highly amusing for there she was, standing there soaking wet and sporting a smirk. So she was toying with him, was she? How delightful. He did so like to play.

"Very well," he clapped his hands and smiled beautifully, much to her confusion. Why wasn't he retaliating? "Sarah, please meet your staff." He directed the drenched creature to the start of the line. "introduce yourselves."

The first she met was a woman a few years older than herself. She had laugh lines around her mouth and a set of kind, good humoured eyes that instantly put Sarah at ease. "Good afternoon."

The woman gave a swift curtsey. "Good afternoon, ma'am. My name be Gretchen. I'll be in charge of the Gatherers."

Slowly, she went down the line, shaking hands and returning each and every curtsey she got. It was a struggle to remember all the names after so short a meeting, but there'd be enough time to learn them properly later. The struggle increased when she came to a set of triplets, all blonde haired and blue eyed. Holly, Molly, and Polly, and for the life of her, she couldn't make out any distinguishing differences between them.

Well, apart from Molly, who had a look of resignation on her impish face. Sarah resisted the urge to commiserate. One sibling was bad enough, but two and of the same age? Poor Molly.

Finally, Sarah reached the last lady and approached her with the same warm, welcoming smile all the others received. "My name be Thea. I do as asked, ma'am."

Sarah waved her hand at the formality, but returned the curtsey. Addressing each lady, "My name is Sarah and not ma'am, miss, mistress or anything like that. I can't work with a bunch of strangers. To work in and as a team, you've gotta trust the people you're with, and have you ever trusted a stranger?"

God, what must they think of her? Dishing out orders while looking like a drowned rat. Something told she didn't want to know. "I don't know if Jareth, sorry, the king has informed you about the representatives arriving three days prior to the beginning of the Festival. Which means I'm gonna need every bit of help you can give."

Since her back was to him, she didn't see the pride burning in Jareth's gaze as he watched her put the ladies at ease with a friendly and welcoming tone.

Sarah continued. "I think it'd be beneficial to have a staff meeting to go over the details in depth such as who has cooking or catering experience, who is going to do what, which kitchen is going to be used for what etc etc."

Gretchen spoke up. "Me daughter has four years in working at a bakery in the city."

Sarah grinned. "Great, can she stop by tomorrow morning? The more the merrier." She paused when she realised she was hiring more staff at Jareth's expense and glanced over her shoulder, seeing how amused he was. "That's if you don't mind?"

"Not at all, my dear."

"Looks like I have an extra pastry chef. Makes things so much easier since I kinda suck at pastry." Off his look, "My hands tend to get really warm occasionally."

As a man who'd never cooked a thing in his life, he had absolutely no idea what she meant, but nodded anyway.

Green eyes rolled heavenward. It was obviously a good thing pizza delivery didn't exist in the Underground. Clapping her hands once to capture the attention that had drifted off momentarily. "Until tomorrow, ladies. Shall we say ten pm?"

They agreed and only left the kitchen when the king dismissed them with a simple word, leaving them alone. "I think that went well."

Relief coursed through Sarah, a shaky breath escaping as she slumped into the closest chair, her weight squeezing excess water out of her clothes and creating a little puddle on the floor. Her chin came to rest in her palm. "Definitely went better than I thought it would."

"You were not nervous, surely?" Surprising considering how confident she sounded, how she held herself with dignity and pride all the while dripping water everywhere.

Her eyes widened at the genuine shock in the question, and laughed lightly. "Are you kidding me? Do you have any idea how nerve wracking it is to walk into someone else's kitchen and take over? If you're lucky, you'll be hit with a rolling pin and not a frying pan."

Jareth smiled. "You certainly kept your countenance, my dear. Admirably. I take it kitchens are a castle of sorts and you cooks are the rulers?"

"Royalty? Hell no," she exclaimed. "Godlike is a closer description. What we say goes. Heaven forbid someone attempts a hostile take-over. You really don't have a clue to the lengths some chefs will go to stake their claim as head honcho."

"Many Fae aspire to circles higher than their own. They can be quite... Mischievious to say the least." He joined her at the table, sitting back with a wistful expression on his face, and drying her up with a click of his fingers. "Magic, both white and black, claiming to be with child." His gaze caught the look of intrigue she tried to hide and inwardly smirked.

He was no stranger to her curiosity. When it came to tales and stories of the Underground, she hung onto his every word, particularly if he was entertaining her with a story involving debauchery and scandal. Better than a novel, she told him once.

"Plots of murder and seduction," Jareth continued, purposely making his voice a whisper of its normal tone. "Wicked, Sarah, but oh so good. Unless it is you on the receiving end of such things."

Green eyes widened. "You've been on the receiving end?" He'd never mentioned this before. "Someone tried to _kill_ you?" God, it was unthinkable.

He didn't approve of lying, but was it really lying if he embellished a few things? No, he decided, it wasn't lying when it got such delicious reactions out of her. "It was well before we first met. A young Fae by the name of Jorgan..."

Jareth began to spin the story with ease, using fact along with fiction to give it some true depth, noting how she responded to every word. Widening eyes, gasped breaths, muffled giggles, and sweet excitement made the effort so worth while.

Even at the expense of his cousin who was, in fact, completely innocent of the crimes. Oh well, it was all in the name of courtship and he was quite sure his cousin wouldn't mind in the slightest.

Sarah was salivating by the time he was done and found herself with sore, heavy eyelids that were starting to complain at not being allowed to close. A large yawn brought tears to her eyes and she blinked rapidly, determined to stay awake until she'd gotten all the juice out of him that she could. Unfortunately, her determination lasted until his voice lowered to a beautiful, rich tone that instantly lulled her to sleep.

He couldn't stop the laughter at the sight of her hands cushioning her cheek as she rested at the table. "Am I so dull, Sarah my sweet?" He brushed her hair away from her face, watching the raven strands fall back into place. Perhaps it was wrong of him to use a little magic on her, but it simply couldn't be helped.

Jareth's lips remained in a half smile as took her to bed with a wave of his hand, carefully laying her on the bed, and artistically arranging her hair around her. Her skin was naturally pale and was a striking contrast to the black tresses, while her cheeks seemed to be a soft shade of pink. Peaches and cream, he thought as he gazed down, her skin was like peaches and cream.

A glove was removed and he allowed himself the treat of touching her, following those shaped cheeks down to her jaw and mouth, watching as her nose wrinkled at the ticklish sensation.

Backing away, the king sent a perfect crystal to her. "Dream of me, Sarah," he whispered. "Dream of me the whole night through."


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you to everyone who has read this story and thanl you to everyone who has left feedback. I'm sorry this chapter has been so late, but a really bad ear infection put a spanner in the works. I'm not happy with this part, but I needed to get back into the swing of this fanfic.

Thank you all again,

Scorch xxxx

&

Chapter 5...

If there was one thing she hated about being a chef, it was the peeling and chopping of onions, particularly in castle kitchens with no air conditioning. In the last hour alone, she'd shed tears enough to fill lake Erie and taken off her top, leaving her in a simple khaki tank and matching yoga pants. She could just imagine the lecture she'd get from her boss if she lacked proper clothing and thanked God the Underground lacked health and safety regs.

She ran a hand down her face and glared through the wide open window. Winter Festival, Jareth asked her to cater. Winter festivals were supposed to be held in winter when snow fell and the temperature was low, making the air crisp and fresh to breathe. Winter festivals weren't supposed to be held when the sun shone and and gave sweaty palms, and the heat increased the pungent scent of onions.

Obviously he didn't know the difference of winter and not winter.

"Lying, manipulative, arrogant..." Sarah grouched, then clamped a hand over her mouth as she glanced around, exhaling a sigh of relief when the coast was clear. If the king never snuck up on her again, it'd be too soon.

As always in his world, the second something left her mouth was the same second her skin crawled and itched as magic slithered over her. It was so strange how his magic felt like a thousand pinpricks happening all at once. Not painful, not pleasent just... Strange. Then again, this was Jareth. The epitome of all things strange.

She refused to look anywhere but at the pieces of onion she was dealing with and fought the urge to shiver at those pinpricks seemed to increase as a bird shaped shadow appeared to the left of her, causing her head to shake. Poor king. He'd tried to sneak up on her and failed. She swallowed back a victorious giggle. It was about time she got to win a round.

"God," she huffed and hid her wicked smirk. "That Goblin King. Keeping me locked away in these kitchens, sweating to death." She faked a sob. "No coffee breaks, no chance for even a small walk outside. I'll surely perish under his tyranny."

Sarah's mischievious green eyes slid to the shadow, watching as it turned from owl to that of a man lounging on the window sill.

"Tyranny, my dear?" His cognac voice held a lilt of amusement.

She shot him a grin and picked up yet another vile onion. "Would you prefer notorious?"

With all the grace of a cat, Jareth went from his perch to standing by her side in an instant. He was about to reply, but her face stunned him into silence. Cool black leather trailed down her cheek, his fingertips catching the tears that left her eyes and anger rose up in his chest. "Weeping," he murmured softly. "You have been weeping. Why do you weep?"

Huh? "I haven't been crying."

"Your eyes are rimmed with red and your cheeks still hold the tracks of tears. If I kissed your lips, they would still taste of salt. Now tell me, who has caused you such sorrow?" To say he didn't like seeing her weep was an understatement. Sarah Williams was his his friend, more so in fact. She was the future queen and mother to his children. She was meant for laughter and merriment, not tears and woe.

"No-one and I haven't been crying!"

Unfortunately he didn't give her a chance to fully explain before he bustled her down into a wooden chair, one hand retained the sharp knife and her other clasped between his. He plucked a 'kerchief out of nowhere, dabbing at first her eyes, then her cheeks and mouth, all the while struggling to retain his wrath. The last thing she needed was to see him at his worst. "I'll not have you weep, Sarah. I demand to know who has upset the king's own and I'll personally see to their fitting reward."

His smile was dangerous and edgy, his mismatched gaze sharp and held a darkness only he could have. Obviously the intended reward would be more cruel than kind.

She thought about denying once more, but figured a demonstration would have a better effect. Sarah pushed herself out of the chair and pretty much dragged the king over to her abandoned onion and held it up for him to see. "It's a what not a who that's got me bawling like a little girl."

Jareth blinked in confusion. "Pardon?" How could a vegetable leave one in tears?

The only thing stopping her sarcastic comment was the fact he'd never made his own bed let alone his own dinner. Right in front of her stood the world's oldest teenager. God, he was such a king. "Stand behind me, now gimme your hands... Better yet, take off your gloves. It'll make things easier and there won't be no bits of leather in my food."

"Well?" He held up his hands up.

"Lazy ass," she muttered loud enough for him to hear. Mission accepted, she gently plucked and pulled at each one of his fingertips, her heart speeding up a tad as her warm flesh touched his. His hands were beautiful. With long and slender fingers and short neat nails, he had perfect hands for a conjurer. Or a pianist.

Sarah traced one digit from tip to knuckle, a funny little shiver going right through her as he gave off sparks of magic. Such a shame it was he constantly kept them hidden in gloves. "First we cut off this end here." God, her voice sounded odd even to her ears.

The king was still confused. "This caused you to weep?"

In lieu of responding, Sarah correctly placed his hand around the knife and his other held the onion, then she carefully lowered the blade with pressure enough to cleanly slice through the vegetable. "Now we peel."

In all honesty, Jareth couldn't care less about some worthless vegetable. What he did care about was the way her breathing got heavy when he placed his cheek next to hers, he cared about how she stopped any and all motions, and he cared about how she licked her lips when he spoke. "What now, Sarah?"

Damn the man, she thought with a scowl. Damn the man and his ability to leave her feeling like an idiot. Shaking off the daze his low, dulcet voice caused, "Now we cut it in half." Again, she eased his hand and knife down, and again the blade cut through the onion like melted butter.

He got a little closer, his lips furling up into a smirk as he felt the warmth of her back on his chest and the softness of her buttocks against him. Far more interesting than that stupid onion she seemed intent on maiming. "And now?"

She swallowed. "Now we take one half and cut it into even strips like so..."

Just as he began to truly enjoy her charming reactions to his presence, the most disgusting aroma hit his nose. It was putrid and vile and he'd never smelled anything like it in his life. If that wasn't bad enough, his eyes began to sting and a split second after that, warm water trickled down his cheek and he sniffled.

"What in the Labyrinth...?" Jareth hastily stepped away from her and dried his streaming eyes. "Explain," he demanded as he half yanked another 'kerchief out of thin air.

Laughing, Sarah wiped her own face. "The smell of an onion stimulates the tear ducts, thus making you cry. Cool, huh?"

Suffice to say he didn't believe a word she said. "I've often eaten onions and never before have my eyes suffered such a thing."

Her grin went from ear to ear. "You've eaten cooked onions, Jareth, not raw. Cooking eliminates most of the smell. Wanna try a raw slice?"

"I should say not," he huffed and continued to dry his poor eyes.

"Go on. You know you wanna." Snatching up a slice, she evilly waved it directly under his nose, and then laughed outright when he all but jumped away from her. "Oh come on ya big baby. It's not that bad. See?"

The king stared in horror as his lady popped that thing into her mouth, delight showing as she happily chewed and crunched her way to an abundance of tears. He winced. "I'll have your word you'll not eat those in my presence again, Sarah."

"Eat what?" She asked, oh so innocently picking up another bit of onion. "This?" It went into her waiting mouth. "Oops. It slipped."

Jareth's gaze narrowed dangerously and he remained silent for a moment before a devious, dastardly gleam entered his reddened orbs. He snapped his fingers. "Exactly, my dear. Eat what."

"Oh no." Sarah spun round to find all her hard work done for her and perfect onion pieces dumped into the large pan on the stove. She glared at him with both hands on her hips. "What did you do that for?"

Ahh, he really did love it when she got vexed. "I've no wish to weep each time you open your lovely mouth."

His smooth words instantly ceased whatever she was going to say.

A faint blush appeared on her cheeks and she coughed, turning back to the counter where the carrots were next up on the mutilating list. "You were up early this morning," she said. "I missed you."

"Indeed?" He asked, that voice of his right in her ear. "The presents I gave did not suffice?"

Sarah smiled and relaxed, concentrating on not losing a finger while starting on slicing the carrots. "The presents were nice," the hot cup of coffee in particular. "I prefer presence, but the Colombian and flower eased my heart felt disappointment somewhat." What was liquid heaven without someone to enjoy it with?

His grin went unseen. "Say the word and you can have as much of my presence as you desire."

She ignored the comment. "Are you gonna be done before dinner or do you want it bringing to your study?"

Jareth watched her slice the orange vegetables simply and rapidly. His eyebrows got ever closer to his hair line when the blade got closer to her fingers, still not once did she cut herself. Quite a remarkable talent if he did say so himself. Of course, he could do it much better if he wished. "I fear the business will not be finished."

"Really? You've been holed up in there since this morning."

He stole a piece of carrot, moving fast enough to avoid a chastising slap. "Unfortunately one or two negotiations have not ended in a favourable outcome. It seems as though five and five hundred won't cover the cost of the castle decorations."

From past conversations over Underground currency, she quickly multiplied five by five and nigh on had heart failure. Sarah stared at him in sheer amazement. "Twenty five thousand? Twenty five thousand gold coins?" What the hell was he decorating the castle in? Platinum? "That's not a cost, Jareth. That's extortion!"

He grinned a shark's grin. "Ah, but think of the fun I shall have bargaining."

"I don't care how much fun you'll have. Twenty five thousand is beyond a joke. Send him to the bog. Twenty five thousand," she shook her head and wondered how the exorbitant amount wouldn't cover the cost. "Sheesh."

"I seem to recall you paying a heavy price for those shoes you..."

She slammed her free hand over his mouth. "Ssh. They'll hear you."

Jareth kissed her palm before removing it and then cocked his head to one side, blinking owlishly. She had said her shoes were within hearing distance, right? "Tell me you've not brought those shoes."

If he said for her to tell him she hadn't brought her favourite shoes, then she had to tell him she hadn't brought her shoes. He was the king. She had to obey him. She innocently coughed as she lied through her teeth. "I haven't brought my shoes."

"Sarah," he asked so very carefully. "Have you brought those blasted shoes?"

She decided it'd be safer if she fiddled with the hem of her top rather than look him in the eye. "No?"

The king blinked. There were times he truly couldn't believe or understand her and this was certainly one of them. "This place is mostly stone!" He practically yelled. "Those heels are taller than my castle spire. The noise will be infernal and think of the steps. It is an accident waiting to happen!"

"I know, but think of how pretty they'll look with the black dress I'm wearing for the Festival."

Jareth's brows reached unprecedented heights. "What?"

"You know, the one with the thick red belt and thigh high split."

His giggle echoed around the kitchen. "Surely you're not serious."

This time it was Sarah who blinked. "What's wrong with it?"

"What's wrong with what?" Why was it she had the ability to confuse the very life out of him?

"The dress! I said I brought the shoes because they go great with my dress and you said surely you're not serious. So... what's wrong with my dress?"

He massaged his suddenly aching head and wondered what he was to do with her. "You have no care for your own safety?"

"Of course I do. I'm just giving the shoes a purpose. They haven't been worn since that teeny mishap with the pavement."

"Ah yes," Jareth said, the incident she mentioned coming instantly to mind. "The same mishap which led to the severe twisting of your ankle? The same mishap that had your brother calling me to aid in getting you to the infirmary?"

Sarah had the decency to blush. "Learning to walk in heels like that takes time. Kind of like being a king." Not the greatest comparison she could have made, but a comparison nonetheless. At least she was making an effort to justify her beloved shoes and not standing idly by as he trashed her only pair of Manolo's.

He opened and closed his mouth thrice as he attempted to find words to describe his thoughts. He found none. "I've not the time to decipher your mind and it's odd workings." He sighed. Knowing her as he did, it would be a waste of good breath trying to talk her out of whatever it was she decided to do.

"My mind isn't odd. I'm simply saying that without my feet, my shoes are pointless."

"They have points enough. Two too many points as it happens, but alas. When your mind is set it is set." He paused, totally unable to help himself. His voice was as sly as his expression. "You know, Sarah. Determination does a good queen make."

Yeah, "And persistancy does an annoyed Sarah make," she smirked and tapped the knife an inch or so above his family jewels. "Not something you wanna do at this moment in time, right?"

Jareth called her bluff. He closed the small distance between them, watching her green eyes widen as her hand became trapped against his thigh. She dropped the useless weapon when she felt toned muscle and sinew tense under her touch, almost sighing aloud at the luxurious feel of his kidskin pants.

God, he was so close to her now that his mouth hovered just above hers and if she moved even an inch, he'd be kissing her. How had she forgotten how tall he was? She had to tilt her head way back to meet his gaze, the intensity in the mismatched orbs making it hard for her to breathe.

"Would you cause me such pain, Sarah?" His voice was low, much lower than she'd ever heard and it rolled over her, leaving her wishing he could stand right there and talk to her all day long in that delicious tone. He got closer if that was possible and leaned down so when he spoke, his lips brushed touched her ear.

Unfortunately when he did speak, he ruined the intimate moment. "Would you see me unable to get you large with my heir?"

With that one itty bitty sentence, the spell was broken and Sarah managed to shake off the fog his melodious voice caused. She stared at the king with an expression which clearly stated she was contemplating doing that very thing. Growling, "Jareth..."

Jareth merely smiled. "Of course you would not have me so terribly injured, just as I would not have you thus." Which was why he had every intention of throwing her blasted shoes to the four winds at the first available opportunity.

She couldn't think of a scathing remark because, in all honesty, he was right. It hurt her to think of him suffering physically or otherwise. Which was why she had every intention of keeping a sharp eye on these Fae folk when they arrived for the Festival. She changed the subject before she subjected either them to a highly embarrassing, highly emotional moment. "So," Sarah said and resumed her work with a clean knife. "How much more does this con artist want?"

There was a lengthy pause. "An extra ten and two thousand."

This time, the amazement didn't have her staring, it had her feeling faint and needing a jolly good sit down. No matter what she did, she couldn't seem to find her voice.

Her face had lost all colour, her lips were wobbling and kept opening and closing, while a hand hung limply in the air. He kept a tight hold of her hand with one of his own while his other rubbed her shoulder. "You look quite ill, Sarah." he commented and guided her back to the chair, and sat her down before she fell down. "Are you well?"

Was she well? "No."

"Truly, you appear to require a physician."

"Ten and two thousand." She vaguely heard herself say. "An extra ten and two thousand."

She hadn't suddenly taken ill, she was just in shock. "I'm afraid so, my dear." Jareth grinned as he watched her slowly come back to the Underground.

"Then he's not asking for twenty five thousand, he's asking for forty five thousand. You're not gonna pay it. I mean, he's obviously cashing in on the fact you're a king and as a king, you have a responsibility not to stand for this..." Sarah frantically sought for an apt word. "This advantage taking."

His grin widened as she told him what he was not going to do. "You're correct to assume I sharnt pay more than I ought. Still, nine and five hundred is a reasonable fee to have my wishes come to fruition."

"What are your wishes, Jareth? The castle doused in diamond dust, solid gold plates, and the Labyrinth hand-swept with a toothbrush?" Cus that was what she'd demand if someone charged her forty five thousand coins for decorations.

"Don't be so ridiculous," he replied. "It would take an eon to hand-sweep the Labyrinth in such a manner."

"Ridiculous?" Sarah screeched. "I'm not ridiculous. I'm not the one paying through the nose for a couple of banners and a welcome wagon brigade."

Jareth arched a brow. "My nose has not the talent of expelling money."

"Nor does mine, but geez. Again I say send him to the bog and teach him a lesson."

He chuckled and brought her hand up for a kiss, enjoying the little smile he got for his effort to soothe. "I'll not starve in the city hedgerows, and neither will my subjects or the children."

"Maybe not, but I swear. I'll feed him to the wolves if he raises the cost again."

Jareth's chuckle turned into a delightful laugh that lingered long after he got back to business.

&

The clock had just struck eight, signalling it had been several long hours since she'd seen either Jareth or her brother and to say she was a little on edge was understatement. For one thing, the goblins could have Toby running rampant through the maze and the king could have signed away half his lifesavings on God knows what.

Sarah's fingers drummed against the balcony rail as she looked over the darkened city and tried to spot one or both of them, but it no use. It was just too dark to see anything beyond building silhouettes and the lights coming from tiny sunflies as they flew here and there. Sunflies were pretty little things, she decided. They resembled fireflies in the way their bodies emitted a soft glow, but that's where the similarities ended.

Sunflies were completely round and had no wings to keep them airborn, and according to Jareth, they let out a noise too loud to be heard by anything bar other Sunflies.

She looked around the city some more before taking the initiative to go hunt them down and demand to know where they'd been hiding all day. Dragging herself up off the chair, she left the windows open to allow in a bit of air and stuffed her chilly feet into her slippers, then headed out into the land known the Underground over as the Castle Beyond the Goblin City.

Sarah smiled at the few castle guards who acknowledged her with nod and carried on her way, shouting out the occasional name. "Yoohoo! Jareth? Toby?" She got nothing so she turned and went in the opposite direction.

Each step and each hall took her closer and closer to what she knew to be the Escher room. The room with a million and one stairs, the room that held the memory of her first showdown with the Goblin King, the room that had almost driven her insane when she attempted to count the stairs. Her smile faded into an award winning scowl as she vividly recalled doing her damndest to finish her little job, but alas. Two years, three weeks, and four days later Jareth told her it was always rearranging itself, with more or less stairs appearing after every change.

As she came to the archway leading into the Godforsaken room, noises from inside alerted her to the fact she'd found her two missing men. Without thinking, Sarah hurried through the arch and immediately had to hit the deck to avoid a football colliding with her head.

Green eyes full of irritation peered over protecting arms and she saw both Toby and Jareth staring at her, their happy little smiles quickly disappearing into expressions belong to a kid who got caught with the cookie jar.

Collecting all the dignity she possessed, she stood up and brushed her clothes free of dust, then glared at them.

"Sorry?" Her brother tried, his face sporting a fake apologetic expression.

The king on the other hand was pleased there was one more to join in. "Sarah," he greeted. "We were just enjoying a game."

Yeah, well. "It's all fun and games till someone loses an eye."

Toby snorted. "It's all fun and games till Sarah shows up, then it's boring."

"Hey!" Brat.

She got a tongue pulling in response. "Pass the ball, please, Sarah?"

She sighed. Judging from the identically eager faces, there was no way she could get away with not passing the ball. Besides, after a day of slaving inside a furnace shaped kitchen, kicking back might just be what she needed. She threw the ball, "Who's winning?"

"We're not playing for points," Jareth said, his tone a tad snappish.

She grinned at her brother. Obviously the king was miserably losing. "Which goal belongs to who?" A question that was quickly answered when Toby booted the football towards the arch opposite her.

Jareth instantly hurtled up some stairs and all but chucked his body in front of the speeding object, only to huff out breath when his ribcage took the brunt of the impact. His lips split into a smile that flashed all his teeth. "This game is being added to the sporting tournaments at the Festival. There shall be teams of ten and the finale to be played on the eve of the last night so the winner can be awarded before the final supper."

_Great_, Sarah thought with a serious lack of enthusiasm, _as if a billion soccer fans Above aren't enough_. "What's the reward?" A medal for staying awake long enough to score a goal? Try as she might, she simply couldn't see the appeal of running around a field, kicking a ball from one side to the other.

"A keg of true Goblin ale."

"A good prize," she affirmed. "Have you given anymore thought to trading it?"

"There is no worthy trading to be done," Jareth stated. "It takes far too long to the brew that..."

"By the time trading occurs, it's been drunk?" Sarah finished with a smirk.

"Precisely. Plus there is much work which goes into it that renders it truly priceless."

"At least in your eyes."

Jareth bowed. "Precisely."

Toby scowled and snapped, "Game."

The king had the grace to look properly chastised. "My apologies." Before he had a chance to take his turn at goal scoring, Sarah spoke up.

"Is this a private game or can anyone join in?"


End file.
